


Boys will be boys

by champagne_enema



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: M/M, One Shot, Tumblr Prompt, basically just angry boys yelling supportive things, levi is scary as shit, like me, this is gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-04
Updated: 2017-10-04
Packaged: 2019-01-09 00:58:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12265659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/champagne_enema/pseuds/champagne_enema
Summary: based off the tumblr prompt: Our little siblings are on rival sports teams and I’ve made it my life goal to cheer louder than you





	Boys will be boys

**Author's Note:**

> prompts are fun and this was screaming erejean so here we are plus im procrastinating bc im having minor writers block kms

I stared at my younger sister as she zoomed past all of the other kids, her red soccer uniform a blaring beacon, a warning if you will, to the other players on the team. Her jet black hair was pulled into a ponytail to keep it from slipping into her determined, ash-grey eyes. She kicked the ball with a resounding  _ thump _ , shooting it past the goalie and into the net. 

 

I let lose a whoop, leaping up and waving my arms in the air. My cheeks were red from the cold, nose runny, but like hell I would let that get in the way of my support for my little sister. “Eren, sit down.” hissed my dad beside me, and I turned to shoot him a quick glare. “You’re making a fool of yourself.” I glanced around, eyeing the parents and family surrounding me, all of whom were on their feet and clapping. Okay, so maybe I had been the loudest one there, but who cared, right? It was just a junior soccer game. I doubted anyone would blame me for showing too much spirit. 

 

“Relax, Dad. I just wanna show ‘kasa I’m proud.” He rolled his eyes from behind his glasses and slumped back in the foldable chair we’d brought. I heard a loud cry from the opposite side of the field and narrowed my eyes to see the culprit. Some blonde, tall, with a long face.

 

I swung my eyes back to the game just in time to see Mikasa score another goal. “Yes! Go Mika!”

 

When I glanced back at the guy, his own eyes were trained on me. Some kid from the other team, in a blue uniform, swooped in and stole the ball from Mikasa, and the blonde yelled “Go Annie! Kick her ass!” 

 

By  _ her _ , I was pretty sure he meant Mikasa.  _ Oh hell no _ . “Come on ‘Kasa! Take the ball back!” 

“Run Annie,  _ run _ !”  

“WHOO! Come on! You can do this, Mikasa!”

“Shit, Annie, take the damn ball ba—YES! LET’S GO!”

“UGH GO ON! KICK HER IF YOU HAVE TO! JUST GET THE BALL!”

 

By this point, the whole field was silent except for the cries of me and that asshole from the other team. All of the parents had silenced, their eyes watching our competitive forms in awe. Maybe wondering who would win the battle of cheering.  

 

The blonde girl, Annie, scored a goal. Mikasa quickly had the ball in her grasp. At this I screamed “TAKE IT HOME, MIKA!” but instead she passed it to one of her team mates. Her own eyes glanced to mine momentarily, rolling her eyes and smiling at my exuberance, before she was back in the game. 

 

“SHIT ANNIE JUST TAKE THE BALL! YOU CAN DO BETTER THAN—YES, COME ON!”

“GO GO GO! RUN! STEAL IT FROM HER COLD DEAD HANDS!”

 

Our eyes locked from across the field, narrowing on the other cheering figure, and the unspoken challenge hung heavy in the air. My dad tried to grab my arm to pull me down, probably from embarrassment, but I shook him off and continued to scream for my sister as if my life depended on it.

 

The two of us let loose ferocious cries, guttural chants, most of which were much to inappropriate for a children’s soccer game, but we were too lost in the competition to care. Shouts of all manners flew from our lips, swears and insults, anything we could think of. 

 

“Excuse me, sir, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” interrupted my incoming tirade, demanding Mikasa create a pyre of non believers at her oppressive feet. 

 

I blinked at the tall man before me, his sharp jaw and bushy eyebrows the first thing I took notice of. “W-what?” I asked, voice hoarse from screaming. He raised a caterpillar of a brow and tried to hide his grin. “You just told your sister to rip the throats out of any competition. I’m afraid that’s not family friendly.”

 

Frustration welled in my throat, mixed with shame. “But! The guy over there, he said worse! I mean, he just told his sister to pave the streets with the discarded entrails of her enemies!” The man chuckled. “Yes, as you can see, he’s being dealt with by my associate.” He gestured across the field, causing me to glance over his large figure. Sure enough, the guy was being chewed out by a very short, very mean looking Asian. I almost pitied the poor asshole. 

 

I coughed, suddenly embarrassed. “You’re, ah, you’re right. I just got carried away. I’ll, um, I’ll go now.” He patted my shoulder as I passed, making the walk of shame towards the parking lot. I figured it would be best if I waited out the game until it was time for my dad and Mikasa to leave.  

 

I leaned against the dark blue minivan, shoving my hands in the pocket of my hoodie, and chuckled to myself at my ridiculous behavior. I mean, what kind of freak does that at their sister’s soccer game? 

 

“I gotta admit, you gave me a run for my money.” said a voice, and I glanced up to find my competition. The blondie with the long face. I had been right when I’d said he was tall. Lean in a way I doubted I could ever be, he stood several inches above me. His expression mirrored my own, sheepish and incredulous. 

 

I laughed. “That was… somethin’, all right.” I felt somewhat choked, mostly caught off guard at how hot the guy was. Hot in an annoying way. He was the type that acted like a total fuckboy just because he knew he was hot shit, and  _ boy _ , was he hot shit. Hot with a capital fucking _H_. 

 

He leaned against the car beside me and pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. He offered me the box. “Smoke?” 

 

I shrugged and took one. He lit his own, then leaned in close to my face, pressing the lit cigarette in his mouth against the one in my own. I flushed, not quite sure how to react. Once lit, I took a drag and shook my head disbelievingly.  _ I can’t believe I got kicked out of a damn soccer game.  _

 

Apparently, I’d spoken out loud without my knowledge, because he responded with “Yeah, today wasn’t one of my best moments, either.”

 

We both laughed, and he gave me a crooked grin. “At least you got the nice guy. I ended up with the midget from hell.” He gave a mock shudder, and I laughed so hard I snorted. His nose crinkled in amusement and he said “I’m Jean.”

 

I gave him an intense look, feeling the chemistry bubble between us. I let the cigarette dangle between my lips and held out my hand, fingers red from the cold. He clasped his pale hand in mine, fingers long and sinewy clashing with my own stout fingers. “The name’s Eren. It’s a pleasure.” 

 

His lean brow raised, grin widening as he gave my hand a firm shake. I almost shuddered at the contact. When he pulled his hand from mine, I mournfully felt the absence, but was quickly warmed by his irritatingly sexy, now somewhat husky voice. “The pleasure is all mine.” 

 


End file.
